


we'll save the world tomorrow

by bellamysfern (VivereLibri)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivereLibri/pseuds/bellamysfern
Summary: Tomorrow they would have to cut down rationing and find a new way of storing food for months. Tomorrow Bellamy would go hunting and Clarke would be teaching Azgeda healers how to use some of their equipment while they taught her how to weave bandages. Tomorrow Raven would have more calculations, more ways to save the world and even more reasons why they couldn’t. 
“We still have tomorrow,” Bellamy’s hand hovered on her back. Sure, they had tomorrow. And only 45 days after that. “Clarke, we’re always going to have tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Clarke said, setting down her own pen. “We’ll save the world tomorrow.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hufflepuffhermione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffhermione/gifts).



> Happy holidays to hufflepuffhermione! Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Thanks to the bellarkesecrectsanta team on tumblr as well for organizing this.
> 
> Also, there may or may not be an...addition to this. We'll see.

The hum of the systems of the Ark was a constant sound, occasionally interrupted by the sound of the heater turning off or on, a murmur, the crinkle of paper, the snap of a marker. The sounds of work.

Clarke blinked, trying to clear away the fuzziness in her vision. Her eyelids stayed open for about five seconds before becoming heavy, slipping down to cover her vision. She pinched the soft skin of her forearm, hoping the pain would help her stay awake. It worked for thirty more seconds.

47 days. They had more 47 days to figure something out, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open for a few hours. The pot of coffee resting on a side table had long run out. It would take fifteen, maybe twenty minutes to go down to the kitchens, make another pot, and come back. Too long. Instead, Clarke blindly groped at the plate next to the empty pot and stuck a piece of something in her mouth.

“Hey, did you get this stuff down?” Bellamy’s voice was gravelly, tired.

Clarke glanced up at the glass panels that had calculations, information, notes that Bellamy was copying from computer terminals. She was then sorting the jumbled information and writing it down on maps, journals, and books. After the apocalypse, who knew if they’d have computers. “Yeah, got it,” she mumbled around the, carrot stick?, in her mouth.

The door to the room creaked open, revealing her mother and Kane looking rumpled, like they just woke up.

“Told you,” Kane yawned.

Abby sighed, taking in the room. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Have to get this done now. No time to do it during the day.” Clarke bit off a piece of her carrot stick, then paused. “This isn’t carrot.”

“No, that’s celery, you hate celery.” Bellamy said. He plucked the celery from her mouth and handed her a carrot stick instead.

“I don’t get why you don’t hate it too,” Clarke wrinkled her nose when he took a bite.

“It’s food,” he murmured absently, jotting down some of Raven’s calculations.

“Enough,” Kane sighed. “Both of you, to bed.”

“But-“

Abby cut Bellamy off. “No ‘buts’.”

“Mom,” Clarke whined, belatedly realizing she sounded like her 16-year-old self when her parents wouldn’t let her go to a party.

“Bed. Now.” Abby stepped out of the doorway, expectant.

“C’mon,” Bellamy put the cap back on his marker and walked around the table to her. “It’ll still be here tomorrow,”

Tomorrow they would have to cut down rationing and find a new way of storing food for months. Tomorrow Bellamy would go hunting and Clarke would be teaching Azgeda healers how to use some of their equipment while they taught her how to weave bandages. Tomorrow Raven would have more calculations, more ways to save the world and even more reasons why they couldn’t.

“We still have tomorrow,” Bellamy’s hand hovered on her back. Sure, they had tomorrow. And only 45 days after that. “Clarke, we’re always going to have tomorrow.”

The way he said it, he knew what she was thinking. One day, there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. But Bellamy looked so sure. He was tired too, and frightened and angry. In that moment though, he had enough strength for the two of them.

“Tomorrow, then,” Clarke said, setting down her own pen. “We’ll save the world tomorrow.”

* * *

 “Clarke, are you coming?” Bellamy shifted in the doorway, impatient. 

“Yeah, give me a second,” Clarke said.

Bellamy sighed, adjusting their bags on his shoulders and in his hands. Their quarters were emptied out. Everything was either already in carts, valuable mattresses or lights or wiring, or in their bags. Yet Clarke still insisted on combing through the quarters once more.

“We’re going to be late,”

“We are not going to be _late,_ ” Clarke sounded exasperated. “It’s a caravan with hundreds of people, how could we be late?”

Bellamy had no response for that. He just tried to contain his sigh and be patient. What was she looking for anyway, a hair pin?

“Okay, it looks clear,” Clarke stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah I think-,” she heard the underlying teasing in his tone. “Haha. Yes. I’m sure. You would have thanked me if I found your gun holster or something.”

Bellamy handed over a backpack for Clarke to carry. “You assume that I would forget my gun holster in the first place. Do you know me at all?”

Their levity was only a little forced. After months of practicing, it felt almost natural. But Bellamy knew that Clarke wasn’t really feeling so relaxed right now. They hadn’t been in ages, but they tried pretending. “Fake it ‘till you make it”, wasn’t that the old saying?

They weren’t the only ones who were projecting happiness. “Hey, look who finally showed up.” Miller teased from his spot on the hood of one of the rovers.

“Blame her,” Bellamy tossed their bags in a cart. “She spent fifteen minutes combing through an empty room.”

“That’s what you get for rooming with Clarke,” Raven patted his shoulder as she walked past, doing some last minute check-ups on her rover.

“I heard that,” Clarke said, not looking up from her rosters. “Okay, so we’re in the rover because we’re going ahead scouting, and our stuff is in the cart labeled 32-A. We’ll rotate the patrols-“

“We know, Clarke,” Harper said. The other kids rolled their eyes a bit.

Part of Bellamy was a little amused with the rest of their friends. The other part was just concerned for Clarke. “Relax,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “We’ve planned this trip to death. It’ll be fine.”

Clarke muttered something like “it’d better be fine” before closing her journal with a definitive slam.

“Okay, everyone get ready to leave. I want to be able to roll out as soon as we get the all clear.” Bellamy raised his voice a little so everyone in the area could hear him. “That means I don’t want to see anyone running back into the Ark because the forgot something.” He gave a look to Jasper and Monty, who looked back innocently.

In twenty minutes, they were underway. All of the calculations looked promising, and they had worked so hard. The past few months had been harrowing, chipping away at Bellamy like nothing else before.

“Hey,” Clarke said, breaking him out of his trance. He spared a second to glance over at her in the passenger seat. “It’ll all work out.”

Indra promised to get Octavia to the safe zone. They had food and water, and all of his people were in transit. A firm peace with the Grounders was established. His friends were in the car with him, and Clarke was sitting beside him.

“Yeah,” Bellamy breathed, grip tightening on the wheel. For what could be the first time in Bellamy’s life, things were working out.

* * *

If they weren’t dying of radiation, it had to be another issue. 

Things weren’t working out. Building was taking way too long, and the Grounders only provided minimal help. Turns out coming together to save the human race was not a sufficient motivation. Clarke secretly thought that the Grounders just wanted the Sky People to die of exposure that winter. She would explain the relevance of having a larger gene pool if she thought they’d care.

The only good thing that came out of being shoved into a relatively small space was that the various Grounder tribes were sort of getting along again. Clarke was a little miffed that Luna and Roan had a better relationship with each other than with her, but there was little she could do about it.

She returned from yet another meeting in a neutral location, tired and hungry. Surprisingly, Murphy and Emori had started to come along with these diplomatic trips. She was sure they didn’t have any nefarious plans, but it was odd. Murphy seemed to have some sort of understanding with Luna, which Clarke tried not to think about. Murphy was definitely their friend now, but it was hard to imagine the ruthless killer he once was with pacifist Luna.

“Good job today,” Kane told her warmly. Clarke tried to smile back, but even that seemed to require too much effort. With a gentle push, Kane told her to get some food and sleep.

Food sounded great, but all Clarke could think about was rest. She trudged to the cabin that housed four people; her, Abby, Kane, and Bellamy. It was a weird grouping, but worked so far. It was a prototype cabin, with two rooms. Kane and her mother took the smaller one, while Clarke and Bellamy had their beds set up in the main room.

When she arrived, Clarke took time to shove off her boots and jacket before falling onto her bed. A light chuckle told her that she wasn’t alone. “Long day?”

“No one wants to share how to make glass,” Clarke said into her sheets. “Or make better glass. We can make glass. It’s just not great glass. Azgeda can make great glass.”

“Azgeda isn’t willing to share,” Bellamy guessed.

Clarke hummed, yawning. She heard Bellamy get up, putter around for a minute. By the time he came back she was almost asleep.

“Come on,” he gently roused her. “Eat, change into something more comfortable, then sleep.”

Bellamy practically had to feed her. Despite her complaints, the Sky People had made some progress. There were little square crackers made with oats and honey that Clarke loved, especially when they had jam spread on them. Bellamy also brought some dried fruits and a warm mug of milk from some of the cows they traded for.

“One more sip,” he coaxed her, waving the mug under her nose.

Clarke giggled. “You made too much,”

“You need more calcium,” Bellamy said.

She took the mug back from him, draining the last few gulps. Satisfied, Bellamy washed the dishes while she brushed her teeth and changed into sleep clothes.

“Night, Clarke,” Bellamy said from the door.

“Where are you going?” Clarke sat up, extricating herself from warm sheets.

“Just filling in Kane about some of today’s news,” Bellamy placated her. “Go back to sleep,”

“This is Kane’s house too,” Clarke said. “Come sit with me. He’ll come back at some point."

Bellamy glanced between the door and her, and Clarke knew she was winning. “Come on,” she needled him a little more.

“Fine,”

Clarke smiled, basking in her victory as Bellamy toed off his shoes and lay down next to her, albeit over the sheets. She fit herself under his arm, soaking in the heat.

“Happy?”

“Hmm, very,” Clarke yawned. “It gets colder sooner here,”

Bellamy murmured something, probably in agreement. His hand rubbed up and down her arm, and Clarke’s head rose and fell with each breath he took. The cabin was silent save for the crackling of a fire.

“I wish we had windows,” Clarke said. “We’d have windows if Azgeda showed us how.”

Clarke’s head bounced a little when Bellamy laughed. “Clarke, go to sleep.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those damn windows.” She admitted.

Bellamy squeezed her arm. “Go to sleep for now. Tomorrow, work on getting those windows for your new house.”

“A new house?” Clarke frowned.

“Yeah,” Bellamy said. “Were you going to live with your mother forever?”

Clarke hadn’t thought that far ahead, but no. She wasn’t planning to live with her mom forever, now that she thought about it. But she hadn’t really done much thinking on it. She had never allowed herself to think about what the future may hold until now. She could have her own house with windows. Proper rooms, with maybe more than once fireplace to heat all of it. A home made of stone instead of just wood, something permanent. With a garden in the back with trees where she could string rope to hang the washing from. A decently sized home, with plenty of grass and space to play in.

“Clarke?”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“My new house,” Clarke grinned. “You do realize you’re going to help me build it?”

Bellamy groaned dramatically. “Oh no. You want a porch, don’t you? Like one of those old videos-“

“Well, now that you mention it,” Clarke squeaked when Bellamy poked her side, unprepared for the assault.

“Windows first,”

“Fine,” Clarke buried herself further into Bellamy. “Windows tomorrow. Then porches the next day.”

* * *

 The sun beat down on Bellamy’s shoulders, which would probably result in a darker tan and more freckles. Somehow they had gotten through winter, and now it was late spring. The season of new beginnings, growth.

And, it turns out, new houses.

“I like the idea of bricks,” Miller grunted as he brought over a wheelbarrow full of them. “But damn, they’re heavy.”

“They’ll keep us cool,” Bellamy pointed out. Ever since the snow melted, they’d been busy building, so it was almost summer now. Some houses were better than others; unfortunately, everything seemed to run on a system of trial and error. But by now, most everyone either had a sturdy house of brick or a wooden house they were happy with. This house was for Clarke.

She had a lot of weird requests for it. She wanted more than two rooms. And she wanted it to be two floors. She had sketched out ideas with Bellamy, asking for his input. He was the one who had to talk her down, bring it back to something more realistic. He indulged her though, using a spare sheet of paper to draft her dream house. There was a large master bedroom, lots of other rooms, a kitchen, and a courtyard. Clarke’s eyes practically lit up at the concept of a courtyard. She had rambled about the laundry, gardens, open areas and grass.

The actual house Clarke would get was a lot simpler, but had plenty of grass around it. It seemed like that was something she wanted. Finally, they’d figured out a plan that Clarke was happy with and that could actually be built.

That doesn’t mean the building was easy. The crew had gotten pretty far though, and Bellamy thought they could finish in a few weeks. It would take longer if it was this hot all the time, though.

That night, it was all Bellamy could do to wipe the dirt from his face before falling asleep. But as he stood in front of his bed, he found that he didn’t want to lie in it while he was still sweaty. Not only would he have to wash the sheets later, but the room would get all smelly. Clarke wouldn’t say anything, but that didn’t mean he should do it anyway.

“Come on,” Bellamy jumped when he heard Clarke. “I drew a bath for you,”

“You didn’t have to,” Bellamy said.

“I know,” Clarke took his hand and lead him to the corner, where he had completely missed the tub of water. “You’re working too hard on our house,”

“Our house?” Bellamy stopped, staring at Clarke.

Her cheeks turned pink, but her gaze was inquisitive. “We’ve been living together for months, I thought…”

“Oh,” Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck. All this time, he thought this was Clarke’s house. Clarke’s house, with Clarke’s garden, room to expand for Clarke’s family…he didn’t fit in that picture.

“Did you- do you not want-?”

“I, uh,” Bellamy stuttered. “Well, this is going to be a house for the rest of your life, right?”

“Right.” A look of realization crossed her face. “Bellamy, I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“Oh,” His mouth suddenly felt very dry. If he could, he’d be with Clarke for the rest of his life too. But did that mean the same thing for him as it did for her.

“Bellamy.” She stepped closer, too close.

He cleared his throat. “Clarke,”

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life,” she said, looking down. Her ears turned red. “I want to live with you in our house, with our family.”

“I want that too,” He wasn’t sure who moved first, but then they were kissing.

“Wait,” her murmured. “I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t mind,” Clarke murmured.

“Clarke,” he kissed her again. Kissing Clarke was probably his favorite thing to do, he just realized. “No, I need to clean up first. Give me ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Clarke repeated, punctuating his promise with another chaste kiss.

It wasn’t going to be easy for them, he knew. Bellamy still had a lot of his own shit to figure out, and Clarke sometimes disappeared into her own head. But, well, he loved her. And she loved him, and Bellamy wasn’t naïve enough to say that love fixed everything, but he thought it was a pretty good start. They would love each other, help each other, build a home together.

Yeah, building was hard, but Clarke provided a strong incentive.

* * *

“I know you don’t want to go,” Bellamy was so patient, it was infuriating. 

Clarke wanted him to be as frustrated as her. She wanted him to raise his voice, use his words to make wounds, look as unhinged as she must. Instead, he was sitting at the edge of their bed, and she was stalking around the room.

“Of course I don’t want to go,” Clarke spat. “Our home is here. Why would I want to leave?”

“We lead our people, Clarke,” Bellamy said. “This is the next step that needs to be taken, and I do want to take it.”

Through different therapies of their own and the falling levels of radiation after an initial burst, it was now deemed reasonably safe to leave the Safe Zone. There had always been enough room to sustain everyone, but not without a little bit of innovation. There was a lot of stress on the land, and just the thought of being boxed in did make most people restless, Grounder and Sky People alike.

So now, groups made their intentions known. People were leaving. Some were planning on coming back, some assured friends they wouldn’t go too far. And then there were those who didn’t have plans, who just wanted to go. Clarke didn’t know which category Bellamy fit into.

“Clarke,” he implored again. “Our people don’t need us like they used to,”

“Speak for yourself,” Clarke said. If she left, she would lose her place. That last time she left her people, everything had fallen apart. It was so difficult to find her place again when she came back.

Bellamy sighed. “We’re at peace, Clarke. Our people don’t rely on us anymore…so don’t you think we could take a break?”

“A break?” Clarke pursed her lips.

Bellamy stood, walking over to her. He gripped her elbows lightly, keeping her in place. “Sometimes…sometimes we have to put ourselves first. You taught me that.” He means Octavia. It was hard for him to accept that his little sister didn’t need him by his side. Bellamy, with some help, learned to let her go.

But this wasn’t the same thing. “It’s not the same.” Clarke said. “I’m not going.”

“Well, I am,” Bellamy said. “This is something I need to do for myself.”

“So you’ll just leave me?” Clarke felt ice crawl down her spine.

Bellamy squeezed her arms. “I don’t want to. I want you to come with me.”

“I-“ Clarke shook her head. “I’m…not going.”

So he left, and she stayed. Bellamy had no plans. He couldn’t tell her when he would be back, just that “it wouldn’t be too long”. Clarke resented him for about a week before she just succumbed to sadness.

Maybe he was right, and they needed a break from responsibilities. Bellamy hadn’t said it…but maybe he needed a break from her. Their partnership, which Clarke valued above all else, was sort of dependent. A part of Clarke wondered if she could function, thrive, without Bellamy. She couldn’t say that it was healthy to be like this.

For a month, she was alone. Their house was too big. She moved back in with her mother and Kane, ate dinner with friends, and all the while felt a gaping hole in her heart. As much as it was interesting to see what she could be like without Bellamy by her side, she didn’t want that. It was a cool experiment, but after a few weeks Clarke needed to see him.

When the news came that Bellamy set up a little trading post, two days away, and was requesting supplies, Clarke loaded up a wagon and got ready to go.

“It’ll be good for us,” Clarke assured her mother as she clambered onto the wagon. “Besides, it’s a short trip to the trading post.”

Abby smiled, but it was strained. “I know. When will you come back?”

That was a good question. She tried living without Bellamy; now the next adventure was seeing how good they were at living away from their people. “Not too long,” Clarke told her mother. Then she clicked her tongue, spurring her horse to move and jolting when the cart jerked forward.

When she got to Bellamy’s trading post, it was dark and she was exhausted. It was really just a shack, but warm light seeped through the cracks and looked more inviting that anything Clarke had access to in the past two days. She clambered off the cart, but the door opened before she could knock.

“Clarke?”

“Uh, hi.” She was uncharacteristically nervous. “I, uh, we heard you needed some supplies?”

Clarke could barely make out Bellamy’s form because of the light spilling out behind him. She wasn’t sure if he was happy, upset, confused. “You came because I needed supplies?”

“Amongst other things,” she ventured to say.

Bellamy stepped forward. She saw him clearly, smile and all. “Other things? Are you planning to stay?”

Clarke cleared her throat. “If you need a business partner.”

“How about a friend?” Bellamy held a hand out. Clarke grinned, stepping forward and forgoing the hand in favor of wrapping her arms around him. Bellamy didn’t waste time in hugging her back.

Clarke found the familiar spot in the crook of his neck, brushing her lips against his skin. “Maybe being separated was technically a good thing, but I never want to do that again,”

“Good,” Bellamy rasped. “Me neither.

* * *

A year away was good for them, as Bellamy predicted. Once a week, a delegation from the settlement, newly named Eden, would roll in with supplies. There were hefty jackets for northern travelers, guns and ammo, foodstuffs and tools. 

The rest of the time, it was just Clarke and Bellamy. He would hunt every day, forage for various herbs and berries. Clarke tended to their garden, dried meats and made tinctures. They worked on a strict barter system, but their lives in the tiny cabin were fairly self-sufficient.

It was good, until it wasn’t. They missed their friends. Bellamy felt isolated, antsy. After a while, a break from those who had depended on him started to become more detrimental than beneficial.

When he brought it up with Clarke, she only had one thing to say. “You too? Finally.”

So they gave their notice to the next traders from Eden, packed up, and were gone in a fortnight. The woods that had once seemed so hostile to Bellamy now looked beautiful, peaceful. It was always hard to reconcile the Earth that wanted to kill then with this Earth.

“What are you thinking about?” Clarke asked playfully, spinning around to walk backwards so she could face him.

“Your hair looks pretty in the sunlight,” Bellamy said easily. Funny, how he could dispense compliments to her so easily.

Clarke just snorted though, turning back around. “Always the charmer.”

“It’s true,” he reached out a hand, Clarke took it and twirled under. The relaxed mood and anticipation culminated in a sort of childish giddiness. “The Earth is actually really nice when it’s not trying to kill us.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Clarke said. “You’ve jinxed us.”

Her words didn’t really hold weight. Bellamy’s rifle was slung over his shoulder, but he hadn’t had to use it in months. The only weapons they’d needed in the past year are those meant for hunting. Bellamy had scars from bowstrings, not bruises from his rifle hitting his back as he ran.

Their light mood dimmed a little when they saw the settlement of Eden. It was…well it was enormous now. And by the looks of it, it was still growing. Bellamy could see actual scaffolding on a building that was definitely going to be more than two stories high.

“They’re back!” Someone called from a watchtower. And then the onslaught began. Friends, family, and people Bellamy wasn’t even sure he knew accosted them. They were given a tour of the new settlement, had their ears chattered off by those eager to share all the news and gossip. Raven tried to act mad at them being gone so long, but she gave up after five minutes. Monty and Jasper tripped over themselves trying to show Clarke and Bellamy all of their accomplishments. There were so many people vying for attention, Miller, Kane, Abby, Murphy, Octavia. Bellamy found it hard to breath.

“One more thing to see,” Abby announced.

“Mom,” Clarke sighed, looking as overwhelmed as Bellamy felt.

Abby grinned. “Just this one thing.” A palpable excitement spread through the crowd, and people began whispering and giggling to one another. “Come on,”

The one last thing turned out to be a house. A two story house, with a courtyard and kitchen. Rooms for eating and sleeping and raising a family. Plenty of green grass around it to play in.

“This…” Clarke looked at the house, wide-eyed.

“This is _your_ house,” Bellamy said. He remembered those plans very well.

“We found the plans after Clarke left,” Raven said. “Thought it’d be a cool surprise. You guys needed your own house anyway.”

“Raven…we can’t accept this.” Clarke shook her head. Bellamy agreed. The house was huge, could hold so many people.

“You have to,” Kane said. “We’ve grown. This isn’t a waste of resources; it’s progress.”

“Go on,” Abby gave them a little shove forward. “Take a look at your new house,”

Bellamy held out a hand to Clarke. She looked at it, at him, with a hint of nervousness. This was the last hurdle. A new house, built keeping growth and family in mind, keeping them in mind.

Clarke smiled, took his hand, and led him inside.

* * *

 Sunlight streamed in from the windows, lighting the room after the dark of the night. Abby walked around, cracking open the windows a little to let stale air out. The sounds of singing birds floated in, along with noises of a growing civilization. The yells of people at a building site, a chorus of livestock, the sounds of people getting ready for a new day. And, coming from Clarke’s arms, the soft whimpers of a baby.

“Let’s clean him up a little more,” Abby said, returning to the bedside.

Clarke nodded, but she was transfixed on the bundle in her arms. Carefully, she transferred the baby to Abby. A cry pierced the air, an arm wiggled out of the blankets and flailed around.

“Okay, come back here,” Clarke said, taking their son back. “Come back to mommy,”

Bellamy laughed, and he pressed a firm kiss to Clarke’s head, blinking away tears. “God, look at him. He’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.”

Clarke looked up, a wide smile on her face. After all they had been through, all the happy moments tainted with loss, this was pure. Just her, Bellamy, and their _child_.

“Ready for visitors?” Abby asked.

Bellamy looked at Clarke. Her call. “Give us five minutes?” Abby nodded, then left the room.

“My mom had the right idea. We should clean him up a little more.” Together, they carefully wipe down their son’s new skin. Bellamy brings a bowl of water and washcloth to the bedside. The infant wails when he’s unwrapped from the tight swaddling, movements jerky and cries loud. Bellamy makes comforting sounds, a stream of apologies and comfort flowing from his mouth.

“I know, I know. It’s cold, you’re okay. We’re here, you’re okay. I know, almost over. We’re here. You’re okay. Mom and Dad are right here. There you go. Better?” Bellamy’s large hands dwarf the baby. They lay lightly but securely around the newly clean and swaddled baby, slowly rubbing as if to bring warmth back.

“He’s so small,” Bellamy marvels.

“Didn’t feel that way to me,” Clarke snorts, still feeling the pain of labor acutely. They had come a long way, but pain medication for labor was a real luxury. Even on the Ark it was considered a waste to use precious medicine on something that women could do successfully without drugs.

Bellamy carefully scoops up the baby, settling to sit next to her on the bed. “You feeling okay?”

“Tired,” Clarke says. “But…not my mind. My body is tired.” She couldn’t stop thinking, but it wasn’t the obsessive running through of scenarios of the past. Clarke was just…thinking. Mulling over the fact that she had a son. She was a mother.

“Sleep,” Bellamy said. “You need to rest.”

“I’m okay,” Clarke shifted to sit up a little straighter. “Give me that baby and start letting our friends in. Only a few at a time.”

“You got it,” Bellamy kissed her cheek, handing the baby back to her before leaving the room. Clarke could her excited chatter from downstairs, but her and the baby were fairly insulated in the sanctuary of her bedroom.

Her son was small, squishy. He didn’t really look like Clarke or Bellamy, but he had wisps of light brown hair. This tiny bundle would grow into a full person. They would have to name him, raise him, love him.

All the hard stuff could wait, though. Right now was time to be in the now. The rest of the world and its worries could wait until tomorrow.  

* * *

“What will we build after this?" 

“Bellamy, it’s almost midnight.”

“Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Bellamy, I just got the kids to sleep. I’m tired. Save the philosophical discussions for tomorrow.”

He managed to keep his mouth shut for about a minute. “Clarke-“

“Oh my God,” Bellamy saw her silhouette move, sitting up and lighting a candle. “ _What_ , Bellamy?” Her irritated face was illuminated, tired but beautiful to his eyes.

“We should write a book,”

Clarke scoffed, turning back around to face him. “Fine. Write it tomorrow.”

“We _all_ should,” Bellamy said. “Preserve history and all that.” It had been years since they made their new home, and the advances had been numerous. Better houses, plumbing, just overall technology. But also a better understanding of the other Grounder tribes, alliances. Exploratory missions to map out the world. Art, books, music. They weren’t just surviving anymore. They were building a society.

“It’s awfully confident to assume that this is history,” Clarke said.

Bellamy chuckled. “History is written by the winners,”

“Shut up,” Clarke threw her pillow at his face. “How are we the winners?”

“We survived.”

“You forget all the problems we have to deal with.”

Life could never be simple on Earth. There were still many life-threatening issues, but not on a planet-wide scale. They were things that would take time, challenges that wouldn’t be met in a day. They would have to work tomorrow, and the day after that, and after that.

“That’s why we need a history book, Clarke, so people know.” Bellamy argued. If only he had learned, really learned from all the myths he used to be so enamored with. How many lives would have been saved?

“Hey,” Clarke cups his cheek. “If it’s important to you, work on your history book. But can we talk about it tomorrow? Your children wore me out today.”

“ _My_ children?” Bellamy joked, but then he pulled Clarke down and leaned over to blow out the candle. “I’ll enlist them to help me tomorrow. I’ll tell them it’s a mission to save the world.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transcripts provided by Public Broadcasting Commons. 
> 
> Support comes from the Unity Foundation: teaching about the past to secure the future. The Reyes Foundation: promoting scientific enquiry. DSTF: committed to supporting education and entrepreneurship. And from these sponsors.
> 
> Additional funding is provided by the Blake Institute. 
> 
> Herbert, Reese and Jindal, Ruth. Nightly News. By Imogen Harp. Public Commons Broadcasting, November 20, 3104.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said there was another part, didn't I?
> 
> Big shout-out to ella_stone, who reviewed and let me know that what I wrote was actually pleasing to someone. 
> 
> Also, to PBS Newshour. Judy, I love you. Gwen, I know you are in heaven watching the world in horror. You were too good for us.

HARP: In other news, a stunning break through today, exciting historians, anthropologists, and every day people alike. A collect of memoirs have been found and confirmed to be written by members of first Ark-drop, commonly referred to as the Dropship group. Not only are these texts in pristine condition, but they seem to have been written by none other than Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Raven Reyes, Nathan Miller, Octavia Blake, and more recognizable names. For further analysis, we turn to Reese Herbert, professor of anthropology at the University of Rushmore, and Ruth Jindal, a historian at the Griffin-Blake College. Now, Ruth, I want to start with you. You obviously work at an institution named after some of the most well-known historical figures, an institution that is credited with a lot of, uh, discoveries and insights into, well, a very important period of history. How exciting was this for you? 

Jindal: Our university, while diverse, has definitely been known to—to heavily favor history. Our geographical location definitely gives us an advantage- we’re right where the First Drop took place- so this is very important to many of us. Uh, the mood in my department at least, is very happy.

HARP: And, Reese Herbert, how about you, why was this discovering important for you, and why is it so monumental?

HERBERT: Well, there are several reasons why this discovery is especially exciting for me. I do have a focus on post-Nuclear technologies, so I have visited sites like Polis and such. But there really isn’t so much information on post-Nuclear, pre-Drop, technology, what we call the period of the Earth-Natives. And, uh, we still don’t have all that information. It’s obviously harder to find, the Earth-Natives didn’t really write a lot down. However, these writings, memoirs, detail quite a bit. We know from some other sources about more, uh, mechanical, more cut and dry information. These writings talk about how they really used technology, the frustrations they had along the way. There’s a lot more about human interaction. And, of course, you’re getting geniuses like Raven Reyes writing down not only their blueprints, but also how they built and approached technology. The trial and error, the successes. Honestly, any time you get your hands on something from Raven Reyes, it’s a chance to celebrate.

HARP: Certainly, and any chance to discover any more about these, for lack of better term, obscure heroes. Ruth Jindal, tell us more about that.

JINDAL: Yeah, so for a historian like me, I was always interested in the human aspect. You know, how they interacted, what they felt like. Um, we didn’t have a lot of that in the texts we have access to. It was, like Reese said, very factual. We might know how much, uh, let’s say carts of cargo and people there were on the Exodus to escape nuclear radiation, but we don’t really know anything about who was in there. Uh, we knew that Clarke and Bellamy were great leaders, but they were kind of mythical until now. There’s very little personal writing out there from either of them or anyone who really knew them well. So yeah, mythical is kind of the best way to describe them, and uh, their partnership, until now.

HARP: Ruth Jindal, tell us more about that. I understand we learned a lot more about Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake.

JINDAL: Yes, this might be the most exciting part, at least for me. So, before this, we knew that Clarke and Bellamy were a couple, had many children— though we don’t know how many—and were happy together. We knew with some certainty that they led together at the Dropship. Uh, we never knew exactly why Bellamy was part of the first drop. We didn’t know much about their leadership style, because all that was ever said was that they worked well together, they were a couple in love, they lead their people fearlessly. It was almost too good to be true, and the only, uh, I can’t even call it a piece of evidence, but the only thing to contradict this, um, rosy picture, was testimony from descendants of John Murphy. They held that the story they were always told, the story that came down from Murphy, was that it was, uh, a surprise that Clarke and Bellamy worked so well together. Of course, the story that was told by the family about Murphy himself was never confirmed, until now. It turns out that there was some animosity between Clarke and Bellamy in the beginning, and Bellamy basically states so in his own writings. The big point, I think, is that before, the knowledge we had came primarily from oral storytelling, which is obviously not as good as primary sources.

HARP: What exactly was the problem between Clarke and Bellamy?

JINDAL: Turns out there was a big class difference on the Ark, which we guessed at, but this is just further confirmation. Uh, Clarke was considered upper class. Bellamy, as soon as they landed, took control of all the younger kids, using that fact against her. One can imagine that it was easy, since he was fairly older. And for the first time, we know why Bellamy was on that dropship. His sister, Octavia Blake, was on the ship for being an illegal second child, so Bellamy, uh, attempted murder to get on the ship. He was given a deal to kill then-Chancellor Thelonious Jaha in exchange for getting on the Dropship. So right away there’s some tension between Bellamy, who thinks he’s killed Jaha, and Clarke, who is best friends with the Chancellor’s son, Wells Jaha. Thelonious Jaha, of course, uh, does not die from his wounds and is able to come down to Earth at a later date.

HARP: Reese, tell us more about what we’ve learned about the first drop.

HERBERT: Right, so we didn’t know a whole lot about the first drop, but there was still a considerable amount of information. Uh, the camp is pretty much gone, it _was_ only a camp, but considering that, it’s in pretty good condition. We know where the camp was because flimsy tents and, and wooden walls can disappear, but a big piece of metal, is uh, harder to get rid of. And then you have some rudimentary remains, uh, post-holes and the like. So, as many people know, the area around this first camp is all protected land, including Mount Weather. We know quite a bit, we know that the kids likely scavenged from some bunkers in the area, we know where they might have hunted. Um, there are human remains, including 18 of the kids from the original drop and remains from what we assume is the first battle between the Ark-Natives and Earth-Natives. One of the graves does belong to Wells Jaha, who died very early on. In her writings Clarke Griffin does refer to him as, uh, her best friend on the Ark, but it’s unlikely he had much of a legacy considering his early death.

HARP: So why is this discovery so important? It does, well, add some humanity to these stories, but are there any other reasons?

HERBERT: I think it’s another way for people to connect to history. Uh, for example Clarke Griffin writes about the days rights after the first drop, and there was a moment when she almost fell into an Earth-Native—what she called “Grounder”—trap. She gives enough detail that we might be able to go back and find that trap, uh, understand that episode better.

JINDAL: And, if I may, that example that Reese gives is more than just “Look, here’s a trap Clarke Griffin almost died in”. Uh, Clarke writes that it was Bellamy who saved her, but, and I think I have the passage here, because it was so startling. Here, she writes about not paying attention, falling into the trap, Bellamy catching her, and here, “I looked at him, and in that moment we were both wondering if he was going to drop me.” I mean, Bellamy was considering killing her.

HARP: A long way off from being in love

JINDAL: (laughs) Yes, definitely

HERBERT: We’re hoping our studies and further analysis can show us exactly how they got there. The works, while seemingly complete, are not in the best condition. It’ll take some time to decipher everything.

HARP: Alright, Reese Herbert, Ruth Jindal, that’s all the time we have for today, thank you.

JINDAL: Pleasure to be here

HERBERT: Thank you

HARP: And online you can find more coverage on this discovery, including some pages of the memoirs yourself….

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was kind of weird, but there was a tumblr post going around about the future and stuff (and this was MONTHS ago). Someone came to the conclusion that if a big discovery about The 100 was made, they would just leave it be.
> 
> Well excuse me. The scholar in me couldn't have that. Nevertheless, please ignore any inaccuracies you may come across. 
> 
> Also, tell me if you liked it. 
> 
> Please.


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